Freedom in Blood
by FinalThorn
Summary: The de Launcet siblings seemingly have the perfect noble life, but faced with new discoveries they will come to question everything they thought they knew.
1. Arcanist's Derangement

**A.N.**

 **This is a rewrite of my first story. Please enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Bioware, Dragon Age, Thief or EA. Please consider this disclaimer as applying to this entire story. I am not making any profit from this.**

* * *

"…magical talent is like a flowing river. Properly channelled, it finds its way to the ocean – mages such as yourself, possessing the ability to cast spells. Left to its own devices, however, it might flow in a different and unexpected direction. But that talent _will_ express itself somehow." – Pharamond, Dragon Age Asunder.

* * *

At birth Garrett de Launcet's eyes were a bright blue, and they stayed that way for the better part of fifteen years. Small wonder then, that at fourteen he was shocked to discover upon glancing into his washbasin that they had acquired a greenish hue, and that they seemed to glow slightly in the half-light of early morning.

When he made his way down to breakfast, neither his family nor the servants that bustled around the Comte's Hightown mansion made any comment or gave indication that they had noticed.

 _Is it just me then?_ He thought over a bowl of porridge, _and for what purpose could they have changed? Have I been cursed by a maleficar? Why would anyone even do such a thing?_

Garrett received the answer to one of his questions in the long interim between breakfast and the lunch being held by the Harimanns. Being forbidden to eat before then so as not to disgrace their hosts, Garrett made his way stealthily towards the larder, something he had perfected at age ten. Upon reaching the great locked door, he drew out a set of lockpicks he wasn't technically supposed to have, and set to work picking the lock.

Imagine his surprise when the lock became transparent and pins and tumblers happened to glow green. Numbly he set the pins and opened the door, stuffing his shirt with pastries, locking the door behind himself and hurrying away to eat his treasure before he was caught.

He had to tell his twin all about this.

* * *

Marian de Launcet wriggled in her tight-laced corset, attempting to find a position that would allow her to breathe. Hidden behind one of the large tapestries in the Harrimann estate she could hear all that transpired and remain unseen and unbothered. Between "suitors" trying their luck, the other girls' whispers and _that blasted corset_ Marian was at her wit's end.

If she could just find Garrett. He'd no doubt have a dagger she could use to cut the laces of her stays and then she would be free of one nuisance. That would require venturing out from her sanctuary though, and she was not willing to be parted from the only peace she'd had since the start of this affair.

Marian closed her eyes and focused on _not dying of asphyxiation_ and listening for any possible intruders. Within seconds voices wafted towards her.

"Where is that girl? I've been looking for her everywhere, Flora. My mother wishes to speak to her."

"Have you tried looking behind the tapestries Meghan? It wouldn't be the first time."

"No, but then again, I hadn't thought her capable of that level of thought."

The tittering of malicious chuckles followed this.

 _Don't find me, don't find me, don't find me…_ Marian desperately thought. Maybe if she repeated it enough Meghan Vael would forget to look behind the tapestry.

Cloth rustled and Meghan's face peeked at Marian. The youngest Vael made a quizzical face before moving away, muttering. It was as if Marian had become invisible, but that was impossible. Perhaps this was a prank, and Meghan would come back in a moment, expecting Marian to laugh at her little joke.

Feeling a sudden headache, Marian brought her hands up to her temple. _See mother? This is what tight-lacing does. I don't care if it's the latest fad in Orlais, I refuse to put up with it any longer!_

The tapestry was pulled aside again, and Marian supressed a groan.

It was not Meghan Vael. Marian smiled at the sight of her twin.

"Garrett, do you have a dagger I could- " she began, only to stop at the horrified look on her twin's face.

"You're bleeding, Marian! Your nose…"

Bringing her hand up to her face, Marian felt dull surprise at meeting the blood pouring down her chin. _Mother will be so furious at me for getting blood on this dress._

Upon seeing the state of Marian, Leandra de Launcet ordered their carriage brought round and bustled her children inside, much to the displeasure of Bethany and Carver.

Marian was stuffed into a nightgown as soon as the carriage stopped, swathed in blankets and fussed over until she fell asleep.

* * *

Garrett shook Marian awake that night, eager to tell his tale. Once that was done a rather irate and groggy Marian was made to recount the events leading up to her sudden illness.

Garrett whooped, earning a hissed "Do you want to wake the whole street? The Divine can probably hear you!"

"Sister, this could be a golden opportunity for us, don't you see? We could leave all this behind, like we used to speak about, but instead of treasure hunters, we could be thieves. With my eyes and your… whatever it is, we could be unstoppable! We just need to practise, see what our limits are," he said.

"I'm tired, and did you not notice all the blood? For all we know this could kill me."

"Fine, fine," he said, "we'll wait till morning, and we'll be careful."

Garrett dodged a pillow before ducking out the window.

"One of these days you're going to fall, y'know," Marian grumbled.

The door opened and Leandra entered.

"Marian, I thought I told you to go to sleep. What was all that noise? And why is there a pillow on the ground?"

Marian sighed.

* * *

Carver had always been strong. At nine he could carry Bethany inside when she fell and twisted her ankle. At ten he could confidently swing an adult size longsword. At eleven his weapons trainer had marked him out as the only one of his siblings able for two-handed weapons training. Carver began to challenge any opponent he could reasonably stand a chance against, and quite a few he could not. Carver rarely lost, and never to an opponent weaker than himself.

As his strength grew, so did his pride.

At twelve, he learned the disadvantages of his bulky build.

A couple of weeks after the incident at the Harimanns, he was due to spar with Brett in front of their parents. Brett had a more compact build than Carver, swifter and more agile. Carver failed to think that this could cause problems.

The match started well for Carver. He'd struck out with his training sword, clipping Brett's torso and driving him back several feet. From there it had been a simple matter to press his advantage, but just as he was about to land the finishing blow, Brett leaped out of the way. Carver's blade continued in its arc, digging into the soft ground, overbalancing Carver.

As Carver struggled to right himself and retrieve his sword, Brett struck from behind. Carver made only a token effort to defend himself. Several agonising minutes later, Carver had fallen to the ground.

In the face of his defeat, Carver began a new training regimen. He trained from dawn until dusk, and not even his twin could entice him to rest for more than a few seconds between sparring sessions. This could not last. Carver collapsed, exhausted and beaten. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a cluster of blue sparks.

When he woke, he was surrounded by his concerned family. Carver was forbidden from pushing himself during training, and was forced to return to simple exercises and brief sparring sessions with his trainer.

It was during one of those sparring sessions that he first noticed it. When his trainer struck, a blow that Carver should've been forced to block, Carver watched in amazement as the wooden practise sword glanced against an invisible barrier. His trainer muttered something about slipping in the water-logged terrain, but Carver knew the truth.

Within months Carver could summon the barrier at will, and his opponents always blamed the missed hits on the wet ground or the sun, or any number of excuses.

* * *

Bethany was the sibling that was changed the most by her discovery of magic, however. While her siblings learned how to see valuables hidden inside a pocket, stretch their invisibility to cover other people and even objects or to control the tide of battle, Bethany learned how to manipulate.

At first it started out simple, innocent even. Make water move there, earth shift here, a breeze, flames dance. Then she discovered she could heal.

The road to the void is paved with good intentions, they say.

Her first healing was Carver, after his collapse. She summoned the blue sparks that came so readily to her, pushed them inside his body, and willed them to fix the damage. _Heal._

After that she began to take in injured birds. Her parents smiled at her sweetness. But it was just for Carver. She had to know how to mend injuries properly. She kept the animals in a cage, observing what worked, what didn't… what made things worse. Some of her subjects inevitably died, and she played the part of the sad little girl who couldn't save the birdie.

 _Why should I care though?_ She thought after the death of the thirteenth bird unlucky enough to fall into her clutches. _This is for Carver. They're just animals, lesser._

This form of thinking would have eventually drawn demons, even without what came next. Had Bethany been taught, had she been raised anything but a noble, she might have turned out different. Alas, in this world, such a thing was impossible.

Bethany had a crush on a certain Sebastian Vael, you see. She was not averse to playing the Game of the nobles, something she had learned to do quite well from her Orlesian aunts. Far from it, stepping on a rival's skirt here, delivering a love letter entrusted to her to the unwitting girl's parents there. Nothing but some harmless fun to her.

So, the day when she decided to confess her affections, and saw Sebastian kissing Flora Harimann, and in her shock cut her finger on the edge of the paper she had written all on, she thought nothing of raising her finger and reaching into the small bead of blood that was there.

Flora broke the kiss by slapping Sebastian.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me…"

 _Not good enough!_ Bethany squeezed her finger, forcing more blood to leak from the cut.

"… Allowing a toad like you to kiss me."

"Flora, what are you- "

"Starkhaven scum. Did you really think that you'd have a chance with me? No, I am worth the Viscount's son, nothing less. Not the heir to the spare."

Bethany watched as a blank-eyed Flora flounced away from a saddened Sebastian. _All in good fun, all in good fun… She'd have done the same if she could. Besides, she_ _ **would**_ _be happier marrying a Kirkwall noble… No need for her to go uprooting herself._ Bethany's reassurances sounded false to her own ear.

So when she skipped forward to speak to Sebastian, she convinced herself that the feeling inside was triumph, not guilt. Not at all.

What did she have to be guilty over anyway?

* * *

 **A.N.**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Bethany may seem very OOC here, but as I said in the chapter, she only turned out like this because of her upbringing and lack of actual magical training.**

 **Yes, Garrett's abilities here were inspired by Garrett from the Thief series. Marian's are similar to Cole, I read Asunder and loved it, so that is where the headache and nosebleed come from if anyone who has just played the games is confused here. he and Marian will both be somewhat rogue-like.**

 **Carver will definitely be some kind of Arcane warrior.**

 **I'd love to hear what everyone thinks, so please leave a review! :)**


	2. Enter the Narrator

**A.N.**

 **Ok, this will be the last chapter for at least a week or so unless I get random inspiration tomorrow. This also marks the shift to first-person P.O.V., which I write better.**

 **If anyone has any suggestions for how I could improve my writing, or would like me to rewrite a specific piece just write it in a review and I will get onto that as soon as I can.**

 **I will try to update once a week, but that may not always be possible.**

 **Feedback is always appreciated – positive or negative.**

 **I take some liberties with Kirkwall's layout, but that can't be all of the city that we see in the game. I will explain at the start of each chapter any new bits I add in.**

 **For example:**

 **Market Street: Hightown, similar to the square where Worthy hangs out, only I see it as being bigger with more merchants and some stores, maybe an inn or two.**

 **The Bazaar: Lowtown, a long street with many merchant stalls, tanners, smithies, that sort of thing, similar to where Lady Elegant sets up her potions stand but more crowded and slightly bigger. Very smelly, because everything is open air. The Hanged Man is on a side street.**

 **Disclaimer: See first chapter.**

0

What, you think I'm making this up?

Seeker, I assure you that that is not the case. I couldn't come up with this stuff if I tried.

… Is Bethany being a blood mage that unbelievable? Do you want me to continue or would you rather go with your assumptions?

…

I thought so. Listen well, because I'm not repeating this.

0

First off, you'll need some more background information before I get to the good bits. I promise to be brief.

The de Launcet children couldn't hide their talents from their father indefinitely. Eventually he found out, and rather than call the Templars on them, he disowned them. His relationship with Leandra was strained from the beginning, and this was the final nail in the coffin. She took her children, moved in with her brother, Gamlen and set about annulling her marriage.

Now, the Amell grandparents had wanted to leave a good chunk of their inheritance to Leandra, but since she was married to the Comte, and as I understand it had a bit of a falling out with them, she refused to claim her inheritance when they died. Everything went to Gamlen. Of course, he wasn't the smartest with money, so he gambled, drank and slept his way through a good chunk of it.

He somehow managed to hold onto the house, but the Amell fortune was vastly depleted. Just enough left to pay the taxes that year.

The siblings needed a miracle. They got one. Just maybe not the right one.

0

It was a sunny day in Hightown when I met the siblings in 9:31 Dragon. Well, two of them at any rate.

Carver had joined up with a mercenary company first chance he got, and Bethany sent most of her days in the Chantry, trying to catch a glimpse of you know who, or hob-nobbing with the elite. Between the two youngest, the family could eat and avoid a scandal, but they were going to be strung out to dry come next year when they didn't have any tax money.

Leandra had shut herself away and kept trying to contact someone from her past.

Ugh! Yes, I know who, no I'm not telling! It'll ruin the pacing of the story.

Maker's breath, Seeker. Quit it with the interruptions.

Well, anyway, my brother, Bartrand was leading an expedition into the Deep Roads. The eldest de Launcet twins saw this as a golden opportunity.

What? Surprised that it wasn't all planned out Seeker?

Bartrand was a stubborn old miser, and they approached him the wrong way. He wasn't going to hire any more help. I was about to approach the dejected pair when a pickpocket bumped into Garrett.

The twins gave chase and I hurried down an alley to intercept the thief before he got to Market Street. Would've been no catching him if he had – too many crowds.

I drew Bianca – my crossbow, isn't she beautiful, Seeker? One of a kind – and lined up her sights. I pulled the trigger at just the right instant, pinning the thief to a wall. It was an excellent shot.

I retrieved the twins' coin, but not before getting in some good quips and removing the bolt in a rather painful fashion. The unfortunate rogue scrambled off, muttering something about crazy dwarves.

I gave the twins' one of my signature smirks – a Tethras family skill, passed through the-OOF!

I'm just messing with you, Seeker. Was the violence strictly necessary? I don't see how I'll be able to give you the information you want if you keep _randomly_ hitting me.

Now then, where was I?

Ah, yes.

Smiling graciously, I handed the coinpurse back to Marian. _Well,_ I thought, _if the boy can't keep a tight hold on his coin…_

After pleasantries had been exchanged I got down to business.

"We don't need another set of guards, we need investors. Bartrand won't admit it, but we're short about fifty sovereigns."

"If we had that amount of coin to throw about, we wouldn't need to join this expedition in the first place," Garrett said, crossing his arms.

"I'm sure I can think of something. If you want in, meet me at the Hanged Man later – it's just off the Bazaar. Ask for Varric."

Satisfied that I had at least piqued their curiosity, I walked away.

Besides, if they wanted those five silvers I palmed they'd have to come find me.

0

Sure enough, they found me that evening.

"Very funny, Master Tethras," Garrett (who I immediately resolved to call Chuckles) said somewhat sourly.

"Sit down Chuckles, you too," I gestured towards Marian, "Have a pint on me. We can talk business over a game of Wicked Grace, what do you say?" I waved over a barmaid and drew out a pack of cards.

Marian shrugged and sat, pulling her twin into an adjacent seat.

"Can't hurt to hear him out, brother."

 _A reasonable sort._ I decided to call her Waffles. I dealt the cards while we waited for our round.

Word for the wise, Seeker, never let me deal cards. I cheat, and I cheat well.

"Well, Waffles, as I said, we need fifty sovereigns to get the expedition on the road, but we also need to find a decent entrance into the Deep Roads," I looked at the hand I'd dealt myself, perfect, "Tell you what, I win, you raise the coin, you win, I go into debt financing this thing."

"You're on," Chuckles said "But what do you mean by a 'decent' entrance? Wouldn't any old entrance do?"

"What we need is an entrance not too far from where we're going, not plundered and not full of Darkspawn. I received some information from a Fereldan refugee in return for helping her clear up a little problem in the guard, and it seems that there's a Grey Warden in the city who could help us," I said, laying down my cards for the twins to see.

"Did she say where?" Garrett asked, almost at the same time that Marian noticed that I'd won.

"No, but we can find out."

0

The Viscount's Keep is a thing to behold, Seeker, large, imposing, it looks like something right out of the Imperium mated with an Orlesian sense of fashion and a Fereldan sense of practicality. The Kirkwall guard operates out of the east wing of the main building, and the guardhouse is accessible from there via an old servant passage that runs underground. The Office of the Guard is tucked into a nice niche at the bottom of a flight of stairs leading to that passage.

I led the twins to the Guard Captain's office and knocked politely on the door. The door creaked open and a burly, armed and armored redhead peeked out.

"What is it now, Varric? I am not petitioning the Viscount to let you steal ownership of the Hanged Man. For the umpteenth time, no means no."

"I'm actually here for information, Killer."

She opened the door wider carefully looking around. "You'd better come in then."

Once we were seated she shut and locked the door before leaning against the desk.

"Aveline Vallen," she introduced herself to Waffles and Chuckles, offering them a calloused hand to shake. "What do you need, dwarf?"

 _Curt, as always._

"I need you to introduce us to that Grey Warden healer you mentioned before."

Aveline gave us an appraising look. "How do I know you're not working for the Templars?"

Her stance shifted and she reached for the sword buckled to her hip. That locked door started to look a lot less like it was to ward off interruptions and a lot more like it was meant to prevent escape from impending doom.

Marian and Garrett exchanged a look. I wished I knew what it meant. Was it a _this dwarf has gotten us killed_ look or a _we have a plan_ look?

The _we have a plan_ theory proved to be true.

Between one blink and the next, they both disappeared. Aveline unlimbered herself from the desk and approached the seats they'd occupied, carefully waving her blade in front of herself to check if they had moved. They had.

Aveline searched the room from top to bottom and I sweated buckets.

Several tense moments passed, during which I think I aged about ten years, before the duo reappeared by the door, Garrett proudly waving the key about.

Marian, meanwhile, was clutching her nose, trying and failing to stem the flow of blood that trickled over her fingers and down her hand.

Aveline sheathed her sword. "You're not Templars," she said with conviction.

"No shit."

"I'll take you to Anders. It looks like your friend might need it."

If only I hadn't participated in Bartrand's expedition, if only I hadn't introduced them to Aveline, and through her, _him_ , maybe things would've turned out different. Then again, maybe nothing would've changed.

Such a pity that life isn't reasonable, eh, Seeker?


End file.
